


Sacrifice

by el_gilliath



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Heavy Angst, M/M, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 15:33:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18552637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/el_gilliath/pseuds/el_gilliath
Summary: The demon finds him on its own volition. Apparently his grief is screaming loud enough into the void that they had to check out whatever it was. The fact that the demon appears before him wearing his mother’s face, might be the biggest fuck you this world has ever given him. Because in those few seconds before he realizes that the psychic connection isn’t there. He’s happy. He’s so happy and the joy is bursting out of him thinking that she somehow managed to survive. But then it tilts its head. He can’t feel her in his core. And it breaks his heart.





	Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt from Eggsy:  
> A demon offers Michael the return of his mother, whole and young again: a second chance for the two of them... without outlining the cost of this home is his other one. So as Mara gets stronger, Alex gets weaker and Michael is caught between the two things he's always wanted
> 
> I promised a sad ending. And I delivered. So reading this might hurt a lot.

The demon finds him on its own volition. Apparently his grief is screaming loud enough into the void that they had to check out whatever it was. The fact that the demon appears before him wearing his mother’s face, might be the biggest fuck you this world has ever given him. Because in those few seconds before he realizes that the psychic connection isn’t there. He’s happy. He’s so happy and the joy is bursting out of him thinking that she somehow managed to survive. But then it tilts its head. He can’t feel her in his core. And it breaks his heart.

His grief surges, bigger and worse than before. Because she’s here. Her face is right in front of him, and she is so beautiful, so wonderful and so very, very missed. He had her back for 5 minutes, got to hold her hand and feel her love for 10 seconds. It wasn’t enough, it will never be enough. He wants her back. He wants his mother, a parent that loves him. Loved him. But it’s not her, and he feels his power surging under his skin as the anger rises, ready to tear everything in his path apart.

“You are a very angry young man,” the thing with her face says, and his telekinesis rips out of him, trying to fling the thing away from him. But it only smirks at him, its eyes going completely black as it stays exactly where it is. Of course. Of course he would attract a fucking demon with his grief.

“I can give her back to you.” He freezes at the words. And despite himself, despite knowing he shouldn’t. He feels hope. He wants it, more than he has ever wanted anything in his life. More than he wanted Alex. Wants Alex. But it’s a dangerous hope, cause a demon will never give it to you straight.

“You’re a demon. All your deals come with false hope and a prize I’m not willing to pay,” he responds, grief once again overcoming the small feeling of hope. Because there is no hope. His mother, is dead and he won’t get her back.

“You don’t pay a prize.”

He narrows his eyes. There is no way. “There’s always a prize”

“Not for you. Now if you want your mother back, come over here and seal it with a kiss. I’ll even change shapes for you,” the demon says with a cruel smirk, and between one blink and the next, Alex is standing in front of him instead of his mother.

“Why. Why would you give me this?” he asks. The hope is surging within him again, battling against the cloying feeling of grief. But he doesn’t know if he can trust this. He doesn’t know if he wants too.

“Because your grief? Is filling up the void in between this place and Hell, and we are tired of it. Demon’s live off of human grief. You’re not human, so instead of it being the good kind of grief it’s just annoying. We need it gone. And as such you don’t have to pay a prize. Now come, kiss me. And you can have her back.”

He moves before he thinks about it, striding over to the demon wearing Alex’s face and kisses him. Deeply, like if it really was Alex. He knows he needs to talk to Alex too, and he will, but this comes first. His mother comes first.

The kiss breaks and the demon grins at him. The grin is dark, and full of sinister evil. Somewhere in Michael’s brain Klaxon alarms are blaring and he knows that grin means nothing good. But the demon promised that he wouldn’t have to pay a prize. And the hope of having his mother back is too great.

“Our deal is sealed.” The demon disappears and for a moment he panics. But then, there she is. She appears to his right with a giant intake of breath, young and beautiful like she was when they connected. Clothed in the same white dress, with the same necklace. Her eyes wild, looking around with obvious shock until the land on him. And a second later, the connection snaps back into place. He can feel her. He knows without a shadow of a doubt. It’s her.

“M-”. He can’t finish it, can’t get the word out of his mouth. It feels too big, too small, too import and too not important at the same time. So he does the only other thing he can do. The only other thing that feels safe and needed. He runs over to her and gathers her in his arms. He clings to her, as she puts her arms around him and clings back. The connection between them surges as they touch one another. He can feel her in his head, her love, her joy, her disbelief. She doesn’t understand how she can be here, how she can be young again and still have her baby boy in her arms. Her first born, the child born from her and the love of her life that died in the war. Her Rath. Her precious, beautiful, wonderful Rath with a set of curls just like his father. She sees all of Geran in him, in the lovely young man he is. She misses him so much even if he has been dead for years. But Rath… She feared for his life, not knowing where he was all those years she was captive. She knew someone had tried to move their pods to safety, but she never knew if they succeeded. But they did. Because her he is. Here he is again. Seeing him in the prison had been so painful and yet such a giant relief. She didn’t know if he got out safely along with the wonderful man who loves her son so much. But he’s standing with his arms around her and he is fine. As is she. And she is so thankful.

Michael withdraws his mind the tiniest bit from their connection. Her feelings about him and his dad, Geran, is so strong. Geran. Maybe that’s why Guerin didn’t always feel so wrong even if Michael sort of did. But his name, the name given to him by his parents is Rath. And she. His mother’s is Mara. Geran, Mara and Rath. They were a family.  
“Mom,” he whispers in her ear. He can feel her smile through the connection, her mind whispering “Rath” back at him. Then a questioning “Michael?”. As if she wants him to tell her what she prefers.

“Call me whatever you want,” he whispers back. And feels his heart elevate as she whispers back; “My son.”

——————-

They spend the day together, and he learns more about them and his home planet than he ever thought possible. Antar, though war torn now, was a beautiful place of peaceful blue waters, green grass and brown dirt, not so dissimilar to what Earth looks like. It’s why they chose it when they had to go on the run, because of how much like home Earth looked. She tells him about his father, the general in chief of the Antarian Army, best friend of king Faron and brother of Queen Naria; Max and Isobel’s parents. Or Zan and Vilandra as their Antarian names are.

She tells him about his father dying to protect the ships and they left Antar, escaping from Kivar, the usurper who tried to steal the throne. She tells him about their journey to earth that took 20 years, mostly done in pods but that she was awake for small bits of it, bringing him out of his pods as well to share the beauty of space. She tells him about the stowaway that caused their ships to crash instead of landing gently, and how the government found them right after. She doesn’t tell him what they did to her and the others at Caulfield. But he sees enough in her head to know. And it kills him that she had to experience all that. But she is here now, and he is so grateful, just as she is. And maybe the two of them can be a family again.

——————-

He’s been ignoring his phone in favor of her when a familiar Humvee drives into the junkyard. The last conversation he had with Alex (“I don’t love you!”) flashes through his mind and he closes his eyes in regret. The hurt on Alex’s face was devastating. Even knowing that Alex knew he lied makes Michael feel sad, he never wanted to be the person that put that kind of devastation there ever again. It reminded him of how broken Alex was in the tool shed when they were 17, and it is not a good feeling.

His mother reaches for his hand and squeezes, waves of unconditional support coursing through the connection in their head. She did show him how to close the connection if he needed too. But so far none of them have, the feeling of the other in their head is too new, too loving, too precious to let go of right now.

Alex gets out of the car and Michael can see how tired he is. It makes him frown, Alex has always been one to overwork himself and it doesn’t seem like he’s stopping anytime soon.

“Alex, you okay?” He asks as he gets closer. His walk is slightly bumpy in a way is hadn’t been since he quit using the crutch. He must be more tired than he looks.

Alex looks up and opens his mouth as if to reply but stops when he sees Michael’s mother. His faces turns blank, but not before Michael sees the brief flash of pain in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had company. I’ll see you later Guerin.” Alex says before he turns around. And Michael knows what he’s thinking. He remembers what Michael yelled at him, even if he knew that he was lying, sees a pretty girl by his side and thinks the worse.

“Alex, stop.” Alex doesn’t, of course. And the limp is more pronounced as he tries to get away as quickly as possible. Running on the prosthesis must have done a number on his leg.

“I thought you were done walking away! That you don’t look away.”

Alex turns, anger evident on his face even if he tries to hide it. “I am! And I don’t. I meant everything I said, but you already have company. This obviously isn’t the time for me to be here.”

“Alex. I swear, you aren’t interrupting anything,” Michael said with a smile, walking over to Alex and grabbing his hand, holding it tight when Alex tries to snatch his hand back. They need to talk so badly, and he wants that. He wants it so much. “This is Mara. My mother”

Alex’s head snaps so fast to look at his mother than Michael almost fears for his neck. But the widening of his eyes, the slight recognition when he looks over her features, the breathless joy hidden on his face when he looks back at Michael. Alex Manes is the bravest and most lovable man he has ever had the fortune of meeting. And he loves him so much.

“Guerin, how the hell is she back? And young? She died. We saw the prison blow up!” Michael opens his mouth to answer but Alex just barrels over him. “ Are you sure? Like completely sure she’s not just someone or some thing sent here to fuck with you even more?”

Michael grins as Alex continues to ramble on about probability, statistics and facts. He’s nervous and worried for Michael in a way he has never seen before. And knowing what he knows now about exactly how Alex feels it only makes him more endearing. His mother nudges him through their connection, laughter and joy lacing it. Part of her own powers are empathy, and the love she feels from Alex makes her own happiness shine in Michael’s head. Like the beacon he was missing.

“Alex!” Alex shuts up abruptly and just looks him in the eyes. His other hand tangling in the one of Michael’s still holding Alex’s hand. “I can feel her in my head. I have the same connection with her that I have with Max and Isobel. Only hers is stronger, more familial. It’s her Alex, I’m positive.”

The smile that comes over Alex’s face is radiant. The joy hidden on his face earlier is out in full force, and Michael. Michael can’t help himself. He extracts his hands from Alex’s and brings them up to his face, pulling him in to place a sweet kiss on Alex’s lips. And Alex responds the way he always does, pushing himself closer to Michael, his hands coming up to run through Michael’s curls. Clutching him closer to have as little space between them as possible. They get a bit lost in each other the way they always do, in their own cosmic little place in the universe.

He can hear his mother’s soft chuckle in his head, but Alex has apparently forgot she was here because he startles when she laughs out loud. He pulls away from Michael to look at her, flushing a brilliant red. Michael can’t help but chuckle at him which earns him a patented Alex Manes Stink-Eye. But he can’t begin to care. His mother is alive and here with him, and so is Alex.

“Come on, let me introduce you,” He whispers after giving Alex another quick kiss and Alex just looks at him. He’s slightly afraid of something, but Michael can’t pinpoint what it is. It makes no sense that Alex would be afraid of his mother. Unless…

“Alex. You are not your father, or your brother. She doesn’t blame you for anything you family has done.” Alex just nods, but Michael knows he doesn’t believe it. The most important thing is that his mother does, and he knows that she will show Alex that she does. He turns towards her, and she’s just standing there, waiting with a smile on her face. Michael takes Alex’s hand and walks over to her, tugging a slightly reluctant Alex along. He can almost feel Alex’s apprehension, the tension radiation from him. He knows his mother feels it too, but she doesn’t seem to care. She is still smiling, her eyes on Alex as they walk up to her.

“Mom, this is Alex. Alex, this is my mom,” he says in a soft voice as they stop in front of her. He can feel her empathy reach out towards Alex, and Alex startles as he feels her. Michael can feel their connection in his head as his mother shares it with him. It’s not as tangible as the one he has with her, nowhere near as complex. But it’s still there. It’s still the soft, gentle touch of a mother's embrace, the gentle caress of acceptance and unconditional admiration, the tender whispers of a mother’s love. She is showing Alex how much she doesn’t blame him; how much she knows he’s not his father. How much she loves and adore him because of how much Alex loves and adore Michael. She shows him how much she accepts who and what he is, all with the gently touch of her powers against his human mind.

“I’m still sorry, Mara,” Alex whispers. Michael is certain he accepts everything she is telling him. But he also knows that Alex still blames himself. Still blames his family for all the rest of them that died in that prison. Still blames himself for the fact that she died in there. But his mother only smiles and presses a soft kiss against Alex’s forehead.

“You make my son happy; you make him feel loved. That is all I see, and that is all I will ever see,” she whispers back at him. And Michael, like Alex, struggles not to cry.

——————-

He gets two more days with his mother before everything comes back to haunt him. Before life once again shows him that he is not meant to be completely happy. Life has too much of an issue with him for that. Because Alex showed up two days ago looking tired and explained it away with all the running and being on the prosthesis for too long the day before at the prison. And Michael believed him, he forgot for a second that Alex has been running on his bad leg, what with him going to Max’s house and arguing for not killing Noah. Noah had died anyway while they argued, but his mother coming back the next day had made anything he wanted to ask Noah not important anyway. But when Alex shows up on the third day, almost stumbling out of the car, his eyes sunken and his skin a decidedly not healthy tone of grey, Michael worries. He knows something isn’t right. And he has a creeping feeling of despair.

“Alex! What the fuck?!?” He yells as he runs over to the dark-haired man. A tendril of disapproval at his language comes from his mother but he ignores it. Alex looks like hell and he doesn’t care about that right now.

“’M sorry. I woke up feeling like shit. Had to come here,” Alex mumbles as he all but collapses against Michael when he’s close enough. His skin feels warm and slightly sweaty. But he’s shivering like he’s cold.

“You look like shit, Manes. Why are you even out of bed?” Michael asks, gathering Alex close. Alex was right that he runs hot. Even being close to him seems to make Alex feel better. Like the heat the gives off helps with the chill.

“Somethings wrong.” His mother’s voice is deep, gorgeous and a little bit unexpected. She’s only whispered and spoken in his head so far. Pictures, images, sounds and feelings is how she usually communicates. Words are less often, even if she does use them every now and then. For her to talk now, in such a clear and strong voice, something must really be wrong. She’s worried, a bit of fear coating the worry. Alex feels it too, the tentative connection between his mother and Alex opening enough for Michael to feel it. She’s just as worried about Alex as she would be about Michael. It makes him feel grateful. But it also scares him, because she knows something is wrong. She can feel it, something is happening with Alex and the worry is bleeding through to Michael. 

“Tell me how you feel my child,” his mother says, walking towards them. Michael already knew her voice would be melodical because of the way she uses sound when showing him things. But he didn’t expect it to be like this, almost like her speaking is a soft song on its own. But he figures it comes with her powers, because Alex calms right down when she speaks, even more than he has ever calmed down with him. 

“Feel weak. Warm. Cold. Tired. So tired,” Alex mumbles against his chest and Michael hugs him tighter. Alex’s hand come up underneath his t-shirt at the small of his back and sighs in relief.

“Do you feel better in contact with Rath? With Michael?” his mother asks, clarifying when Alex gives her a confused look at Rath.

“Rath is your name? You real name?” Michael just nods at Alex’s question. “It’s beautiful, it suits you.”

“How so, because I’m just so gosh darned pretty?”

Alex huffs. “No. Because you’re beautiful inside and out” 

Michael smiles into Alex’s hair, dropping a light kiss on it. Trust Alex to just casually say something like that after so long of bad communication, after so long of misunderstandings and hurt feelings and broken hearts. “You are the beautiful one here Alex.”

“I look like a ghost Michael.” Alex says as he leans back and looks up and Michael

“No. You’re always beautiful to me,” he replies, leaning down to kiss him. And he isn’t lying. Punky goth Alex with his eyeliner, piercings and attitude was just as beautiful to him as grown up, serious and capable Alex is.

“You’re sick.” His mother speaking brings them both back to the reality. Her eyes are narrowed, as if she’s trying to figure out a mystery. Her hand glowing red as she lightly touches Alex’s cheek with it. Along with her empathy, she always had a gift of diagnosing things, figuring out how things work, be it machines or people. Michael figures that’s where he got his engineering skills, even if his human skill is lacking. “I’m becoming stronger. And you’re becoming weaker”

All the blood drains from Michael’s face. His breath leaves him, and he’s unable to take another one. And he knows. He knows exactly what is happening, he’s seen enough of Supernatural to know. Someone is draining Alex’s life force to sustain his mother’s. And he knows who.

The rage rises within him like a tornado, his mother startling as pieces of debris, rocks and other random things form a maelstrom behind him. The crash and creaks of the old cars lined along the junkyard as they start to move in the face of his anger. His beloved Airstream rattling at the force of the wind created by his telekinesis. He is angry, maybe the angriest he has ever been. But his grief was loud enough to scream into the void the last time it appeared. Maybe his anger will be enough too.

“If you wanted my attention. You could have just asked.” He doesn’t recognize the voice behind him. But his mother does, because even as she gasps, Michael feels a rush of loss-love-grief run through the connection and he knows without a shadow of a doubt that the demon has the face of his father. He closes his eyes, knowing that he’s not yet ready to turn around and see the face of his other parent. But he has too, for Alex. He has to save his life. So he turns his head, and looks at the demon behind him. The first thing he notices are the curls. And his mother was right, they are distractingly like his own. His eyes are a deep blue bordering on green, nose slightly crooked with a mouth not unlike his own. He has a scar running from his temple down to his chin but the only thing it does is make him look more accomplished. The look in his eyes and sneer on his lips is all demon. But he can still imagine that face looking at him with love once upon a time. Looking at his mother like she is the most precious woman in the world. He has no trouble believing it, even if the face is marred by evil right now. His mother is still looking at the demon with loss-love-grief flooding the connection, and he sends her all the love he can muster through his anger in return.

“It’s not him. It’s a demon, a creature from the deepest reaches of hell that’s taken his face to make you feel even more like shit that you already do,” Michael tells her. The sorrow he gets in return is more than he can fathom. The love his mother feels for that face is all consuming, the thought of seeing it on a thing that’s not him is even more horrible.

“Michael. You didn’t.” Alex voice is breaking and Michael closes his eyes again.

“I did.”

Alex coughs, a deep rattling cough deep inside his chest. He’s dying. And it’s Michael’s fault. Again the only thing he has ever done is cause his family pain. Caused the love of his life pain. His cosmic connection of epic proportions. 

“He did. Kissed me wearing you face even. It was quite the spectacular kiss.” His mother takes Alex from him as he whirls around. It’s standing in the middle of the maelstrom Michael made with his power, smirking at him as if to show him that he can never hurt it. Even how much he tries.

“You told me there wasn’t a prize!”

“I did.”

“He’s dying. So there is a prize. You told me I didn’t have to pay a prize!”

“Exactly. I told you you didn’t have to pay a prize.” It dawns on Michael then that he walked into this all on his own. He wanted it so badly that he believed a creature of hell, a creature made to torment human beings in the worst possible way, a creature made to make your own life a living hell.

“Then let me pay it. Let me pay it now,” he says through clenched teeth. He doesn’t want either his mother or Alex to die. If it comes down to a choice between the three of them, he will gladly make it.

The demon grins at him. “I told you. You don’t pay a prize. Meaning, you can’t. The prize isn’t for you to pay”

The feeling of fear that runs down his spine isn’t just his own. It’s his, his mother’s, and Alex’s. All three of them are locked in it together, spiralling deeper in a pit of despair, fear and sadness. If Michael isn’t allowed to pay the prize. One of them is going to die. 

The maelstrom of power the demon is standing in stops abruptly. Michael doesn’t have the concentration to keep it going any more as his minds whirls. “There has to be something!”

“No. You were given a gift from hell. But the gift of your mother turned bigger than we imagined, and so to give her back we needed to demand payment. We needed… leverage. And now they have to choose. Does your mother get her long life with her son at her side for the first time in 71 years, after years of torture and think her beloved child is as dead as the face I wear? Or does she give it all up for the cosmic connection, the star-crossed lovers. The military son and the alien general’s son who found each other despite hardship?” The demon asks, its face going surprisingly somber as it talks. “It is not your decision to make, Michael Guerin. It is theirs.”

Michael turns around slowly and looks at them. At his mother, who he has had back for three glorious days. Who has shown him how loved he was, how loved he is, how loved he has always been. Who has given him a parent, something he has been missing his entire life, for the first time in so many years. And at Alex. Who has loved him unconditionally for ten years, who has been so brave and so strong in the face of his father, who has run away time and time again but only to protect him. Who decided that if Michael was dying with his mother at Caulfield. Then he would die with him. Because they never/don’t look away.

“Please take me. Don’t make me watch one of them die,” He whispers. His eyes filling with tears. His mother, Mara, looks so beautiful. So strong and so loving, his head is filled with the stories she has spun for him in the last three days. He doesn’t want to lose her again. But Alex. His gorgeous and courageous man. How can he lose Alex when he has finally gotten him back. When finally they both know what the other feel. When they could be starting a life together.

“No.”

He turns, his telekinesis rising within him as he lifts his hand. Maybe if he can just… But the demon has already anticipated it. And has him against the wall of his airstream in a second. He’s pinned there, cut off from his powers. Cut off from his mother and their connection. Cut off from Alex and the connection he could feel through his mother’s much more powerful bond. He screams out loud in frustration and anger before that too is quickly shut down, the demon clamping his mouth together.

“Now hush. The grown up needs to have a chat.” is the last thing he hears before a fog rolls over his senses. He tries so hard to break away, to figure out what is going on but he can’t. No matter how much he struggles he can’t open his mouth, nor his eyes. He can’t move a finger to help as he is once again put in a horrible position of his own doing. Once again his own actions will make him lose a special someone. And as the fog lifts in what is probably only a minute or so later, he’s afraid to open his eyes. He’s afraid to lift a finger, he’s afraid to speak any words.

“It is done. The sacrifice has been sealed with a kiss.” And Michael doesn’t need to ask who made the sacrifice he wasn’t allowed to make. He doesn’t need to ask who sacrificed their lives so that one part of his family could live. The tears start streaming down his face, harsh, broken sobs forcing their way out of him. He wants to scream, to rage, to throw the world into chaos and entropy with his powers.

He wants to tear the world apart, hunt for the highest angel and the lowest demon. His family, someone he loved more than life itself has been taken from him yet again. Once again one of the most important people in his life is gone, and he will never see them again. Never hold them in his arms again. Never laugh, smile or joke with them again. Never kiss him again. 

Because the voice coming out of the demon’s mouth... Is his own.


End file.
